


A Nice Young Man

by Jennifew



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennifew/pseuds/Jennifew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn't exactly the kind of situation Alfred had expected to find himself in....</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nice Young Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valancy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valancy/gifts).



> Thanks to Enigel and Yvi for providing confirmation that information in throwaway lines isn't actually incorrect, and to DragoJustine for the beta.
> 
> Sorry about the title--I was running out of time, and Nie gesehen happened to be on when I switched from "must find a good title" mode to "must find _any_ title!"

Not for the first time, Alfred wondered what he was doing. He hadn't signed up for long treks--on foot!--through the mountains. In the depths of winter, no less. He wasn't meant for this; he was more of the type to spend hours indoors, doing something that didn't involve heavy lifting. Following around after the Professor, tidying up and filing things so he could find them again when he wanted them, was far more Alfred's style. It had seemed the perfect placement for him, when the opportunity arose: the Professor provided room, board, and clothing, and all he had to do in return was keep the study in one piece and ensure the Professor ate and slept more or less regularly.

He was supposed to try and learn to hunt vampires, too, and he did his best, but he feared he wasn't making quite the progress Professor Abronsius had hoped. He tried, really he did, but although he was happy to learn anything the Professor had to teach him about the theories regarding vampirism, he found some aspects of the practical application...distateful. He wasn't at all certain that he could kill someone when it came down to it, not even a vampire.

To be honest, he also wasn't entirely sure he believed in vampires. His family had--at least enough to frequently recount the tale of how his grandfather's mother had been killed by one back in the old days--which was why after they died he had accepted the position with a vampire hunter, despite the fact that most people considered the Professor a little eccentric. He had been young, barely in his teens, and with a head full of the type of stories that led him to feel he owed it to his parents' memories to try and do something about the vampire problem, once the opportunity had fallen into his lap. It hadn't mattered that until recently the Professor spent most of his time among dusty old books rather than out actually hunting vampires. Then again, books were infinitely safer and less frightening than tracking down real live vampires, so despite his romantic ideals he had had no objection. Not that it mattered, now that they'd set off to do just that.

Assuming they survived long enough to find any, that is. The Professor's ideas regarding travel clearly held as little regard for personal comfort or convenience as his notions of mealtimes. They were hardly dressed for spending very long days walking through snow, and the Professor had no more bulk to him than Alfred, yet the cold seemed not to bother him. Most likely he was lost in his own thoughts and failed to even notice it, but Alfred was not so lucky. He was nearly frozen through, and it had grown dark, and they hadn't stopped walking since he had convinced Professor Abronsius they needed to eat, back around midday. He was grateful that the Professor's pace, at least, was one he could keep up with despite being burdened with the vampire hunting kit and the bundles containing the meager personal possessions they'd brought along. He didn't mind being the one to carry everything for the both of them--the Professor was very old, and shouldn't be subjecting himself to these conditions in the first place, despite the fact that he didn't seem to even notice them. Alfred was happy to help out physically as much as he could; that was his job as the Professor's assistant, after all, and he genuinely cared about the old man and wanted to make things easier for him where possible.

Still, he could use a rest. And a fire. And a nice, hot meal. Finding shelter would be nice, too--some place out of the snow and the biting wind, where they could catch a little sleep, would be just lovely. Alfred wondered what the chances were of their finding some nice, welcoming farmhouse or inn out here in all this snow. What he wouldn't give for a bed--he didn't even care whether it were soft, so long as it were warm and dry--and a chance to thaw out his nearly frozen hands and feet.... He hardly dared even dream of an opportunity for a hot bath.

Yes, a warm, dry place to have a bath, a hot meal, and a chance to sleep for a day or two would be heavenly. Somewhere he could trust the Professor to not inadvertently get himself into trouble while Alfred's attention was elsewhere, as he so often did when it was just the two of them. Professor Abronsius knew many things--Alfred would not be surprised if he were a genius--but he had difficulty sometimes when it came to paying attention to mundane matters. And while Alfred was in a way grateful, since the Professor's need to have someone around to look after such things for him was what kept Alfred out of the poorhouse, it was a constant source of worry to him. So many things could happen while the Professor was lost in his thoughts and failed to notice....

With that thought, he looked up from where he had been focusing on keeping his feet on the path, expecting to see the Professor's back reassuringly present as he trudged along in front of him, as he had for the past several days. At first, when he didn't see anyone, Alfred wasn't worried; he'd fallen a little behind more than once already. Making more of an effort than he'd thought he was still capable of at this point, he hastened his steps, expecting to spot the Professor at any moment despite the dark and the snow reducing his range of vision to not much further than the end of his own arm.

He grew concerned when a few minutes passed and there was still no sign of the old man. Looking around him, Alfred tried to spot footprints to give him some reassurance that Professor Abronsius was simply further ahead than he'd expected, but the snow was coming down too fast, obliterating even Alfred's own prints nearly as soon as he'd made them. Starting to worry in earnest, he called out.

"Professor? Professor!"


End file.
